


The Last of All Illusions

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, M/M, Top Draco, hp_creatures, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-06
Updated: 2008-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's been killing former male Slytherin students around Draco's age, and so all of the surviving men are brought into a safehouse to protect them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d just done a Vamp fic when I claimed this prompt, and I’ve done Veela and Werewolf before as well, so I really wanted to do something different here. I hope you like what I ended up choosing. I loved doing this prompt. The story is extremely different from anything I’ve done before, and I love the way it turned out. So many of the things in this are things I’ve never done before, and because of that, it was both a challenge and a joy to write—I do my best writing when I’m challenged. I’m usually Top!Harry, Bottom!Draco, so I hope this Harry is bottomy enough for you, Alexis. Thank you for the excellent prompt. And sorry that I couldn’t manage Snape in here.

“You can’t do this!”

Potter looked at me smugly. “I can and I will, Malfoy. None of the others are complaining.”

“One of the others is likely the killer! I’m not staying with them!” I didn’t really believe it. There were certainly enough people out there who had grudges against Slytherins and former Death Eaters. Still, if it got me out of here, I’d say just about anything.

“They’re your friends and housemates, Malfoy. Now either shut up, or I will hex you quiet so we can get on with this.”

It was one of those times where I wished I could flop sulkily into the provided chair the way my son did when I chastised him, but a Malfoy always has to retain dignity, so I refrained. Though I did sneer at Potter as I settled into the chair across from him. “I don’t know how you’d expect to get me to answer questions if you hexed me silent, Potter. Or has your Legilimency improved since leaving school?”

Infuriatingly, Potter seemed almost amused by the comment. “I wasn’t learning Legilimency in school, Malfoy. Just Occlumency. And as for what I’d do? You can still write, can’t you?” His smirk grew as I glowered at him, then crossed my arms over my chest.

“Fine, then. Ask your questions so I can go lock myself in my room already.”

Apparently that was even more amusing, as Potter actually chuckled. “So…Miles Bletchley…”

I rolled my eyes, examining my nails to show just how dull I found this all. “What about him?”

“How well did you know him?”

I shot Potter a glare. “We were on the Slytherin Quidditch team together for four years. What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Depends if you had giant orgies in the locker rooms after,” he said with a smirk.

I stood up, barely able to keep the growl from my voice. “I am **not** a pouf, Potter! If you wish to cast aspersions, be very careful whom you choose to slander. I have a solicitor who would be quite willing to help me with a lawsuit against the Boy Who Lived. The Weasels’ teetering shack will look like a palace when I’m done with you.”

“Oh, calm down, Malfoy. It was just a joke. Now sit.”

His face had sobered, but I still considered storming out. Too bad Potter had back-up just outside the doors. Finally I lowered myself back into my chair, but perched on the edge of the seat this time, ready to leave to prove my point if need be. I wasn’t going to take Potter’s little jabs any longer than I had to. “Then get on with it.”

“How long did you know Miles Bletchley?” This time his tone sounded more official.

“We met my first year at Hogwarts.”

“Twenty years, then?”

“Off and on,” I said. More off than on, really. But I wasn’t going to offer any information that wasn’t specifically asked for.

The words made him meet my eyes again, though. “So, would you have considered him a friend, then?”

“Acquaintances.”

“Hm.” He jotted something down on the page. “But Blaise said he came with you the night he was attacked?”

“Did he? I suppose. Our crowd changes each time we go out together. I suppose it’s possible.” He had been with us that night, but I wasn’t about to say that.

“Right.” Potter’s eyes glinted for a second, and I found myself caught in green for a moment, causing something to stir inside me. I looked away as quick as I could, trying to regain my composure. I heard him jot down something else. “And do you remember when you left that night?”

“Midnight.”

“And did Bletchley leave with you?”

I turned to look at him, baffled as to why he would even ask such a thing. “What? Why would he leave with me?”

“You tell me, Malfoy.”

“Well, he didn’t. We weren’t that close.”

“Right.” Potter jotted down another note, then looked up at me again. “And you knew Nott how long?”

“Since we were born.”

“Right. And you stayed friends after Hogwarts?”

“Do you mean the period when we were incarcerated for being the sons of Death Eaters, or after?” I don’t even know what had possessed me to mention Azkaban. Just the implication reminded me of my time there, and sent a cold chill down my spine that I was hard-pressed to cover up.

Still, it got a more pleasing reaction from Potter. He looked up from his sheet of paper and glared at me. At least he was still predictable. “I think it had a good bit more to do with the Marks on your arms, Malfoy.”

“Oh, please. Like we had any more choice in the matter than you did in killing the Dark Lord.”

“Voldemort.” I tried not to wince at the name. “And for your information, I did. And I chose right. Can you say the same, Malfoy?”

I raised my chin to glare at him. Damn him for being right. Not that I’d say as much. I’d done what I had to do. And that was what mattered.

There was silence between us for a few minutes before Potter decided that I wasn’t going to answer, and decided to go back to his little list of questions. “You were with him the night he died?”

“We saw each other that night.”

Potter shot another glare at me. “Saw each other as in passing on the street, or saw each other as in went out together that night?”

Damn him. “Went out. There were four of us, as I’m bloody well sure you know. So why ask?”

“Because I’m required to, Malfoy. After all, it’s always possible someone could have impersonated you.”

“Unlikely. Blaise and Theo would have known in a moment.”

“You never know, Malfoy. Stranger things have happened.” Potter was smirking again, like he thought it a great joke—or he knew something I didn’t. I wasn’t about to ask, though.

“Well, I did. Are we done, now?”

“No. When did you part company that night?”

“Sometime around midnight. Always leave then. I returned home alone.”

Potter raised an eyebrow, then jotted something more on his paper. “And this past weekend?”

“What about it?” My temper was close to breaking now. I didn’t want to be here, and I certainly didn’t want to talk about this.

“Where were you when Blaise was attacked?”

Blaise and Theo had been my closest friends since leaving Azkaban. Greg had left the country, hoping to forget the past few years, and I’d clung to my remaining friends perhaps a bit too much. “I…couldn’t make it that night.” It had been a late meeting with my solicitor about a few remaining legal issues from the war, even so many years later.

If Blaise had died that night, I’d never have forgiven myself for not being there. As it was, I had dreamed about him for this past week after, the guilt tearing me up inside.

“And why was that?”

I blinked at him for a moment before I understood what he was asking. “I had a meeting.”

“With who?” When I paused, not certain I wanted that specific meeting talked about—I’d given him an extra bit of money to grease the way so that we wouldn’t have to deal with a few things. “I’ll need their name, Malfoy.”

“Just my solicitor.”

Potter nodded, then jotted down yet another note. That done, he stood up. “Right. So I’ll just show you your room.”

That was all? He wasn’t going to ask me more? Still, I maintained my composure and stood as well. “Just point the way. I can find it myself.”

“Sorry, Malfoy. For this, an escort is required by Auror rules.”

I stood, brushing off my robe. “Fine, then. Another Auror.”

“My job, and I’m not about to let someone with less authority screw it up because you don’t like me, Malfoy. So whenever you’re ready…?”

“I don’t dislike you, Potter.” He looked surprised at the statement, but I was quick to quash that. “I loathe you.” I turned away from him and moved to the door. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The house was small for as many of us as they’d gathered. The victims had all been men, so they’d focused on the males in my year in Slytherin and the Slytherin Quidditch team. Flint was out of the country, as were a few others who had been on the team, and Goyle had never returned to England, so that left me, Blaise, Warrington, Pucey, and Montague. And it was a good thing that was all, because with the five of us, and a team of Aurors, this place looked as though it were a boarding house. Truly barbaric. If they expected me to share a room…

Potter led me down the hall from the study he’d claimed as his office, and up the stairs to the second floor. There were five doors—two on either side of the hall, and one at the end. He moved to the door on the left at far end of the hall, then opened it for me. “Your home for the next week or so, Malfoy.”

The room was small. Not even as big as our dorm at Hogwarts had been. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not a bit. In fact, this is the largest room, because we knew you’d cause a stink otherwise.”

“This is…large? Good god. It’s practically a closet. I refuse to stay. You can’t keep me here!”

Potter shrugged. “Suppose that’s up to you. I mean, considering two of the victims were your close friends, I’d suggest that means you could be the next target, Malfoy. But if you think you can face whoever it is all alone, feel free to go home.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and I could see the smirk that he was trying to restrain.

“This is utterly ridiculous. You honestly think you can keep whoever it is from killing us by keeping us prisoner? For all you know, it will just make it easier, because we’ll all be in the same place!”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Malfoy. All the rooms are charmed to send an alarm to the Auror on duty the second someone steps inside who shouldn’t be there. We’re ready for this.”

“Right. I’ll believe that when I believe in your idiotic Gryffindor ideals. I assure you that should anything happen to me…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’ll sue me for every knut I have? Save it. Supper’s at eight. No food in the rooms. We don’t have house-elves, so you’ll have to take care of your room yourself. If you need anything from home, just let an Auror know, and we’ll send someone to retrieve whatever you need—within reason. And…I think that’s it.” He smiled at me in that uniquely nauseating way he had, obviously just to annoy me.

After he left, I examined the room. It was tiny, and there was no door leading to a bathroom. Did they honestly expect me to share that? I hadn’t done so since Hogwarts, and I wasn’t about to start again now. I reached for the doorknob, then jumped back when someone knocked at the door. “Who is it?”

“Adrian.”

I let myself relax and pulled my calm mask back in place before opening the door. “Pucey.” We were more friendly than Miles and I had been, but only marginally. Now, if it had been Blaise… “What can I do for you?”

“Potter kept you there longer than the rest of us. What all did he ask?”

“Did he?” That was a surprise. A worrisome one.

“Yeah. He barely asked me three questions. Even Blaise says he only asked him a few, and he was attacked.”

Obviously, Potter thought me the main suspect. Well, he had another thing coming. I was as innocent in this as he was. Unless he was the one doing it, and trying to deflect guilt on me? “He’s never liked me. If he’s decided to use this case to try and put me back in Azkaban, I doubt anyone would fight him.”

Adrian looked at me appraisingly, and I could see that he was wondering if I _was_ the one. “Well, you were with two of the three victims the nights they were attacked.”

“Like I would attack my best friends, Pucey! You’re as imbecilic as Potter if you think I’m doing this!”

“Keep your shirt on, Malfoy. I’m only saying the Gryffindork has a point. You do look a guilty.”

I scowled at him, then decided to change the subject. “So Blaise is already here?”

“He was the first to arrive, seeing as he was one of the actual victims. Guess they wanted to make sure the killer didn’t finish the job, you know?”

If Blaise was here, why hadn’t he come to see me? “They’re keeping him separated from the rest of us?”

“Course not. Why would you think that?”

I raised my chin. “Never mind. Is the food at least halfway decent?”

“Good as can be expected on the Ministry’s tab. Mostly takeaway.”

Wonderful. I’d be ill before the night was out from overdosing on grease. “Let me guess, pizza and curries?” How lowbrow could you get?

“Yeah. Pretty good stuff, actually. Not Hogwarts standards, but with no house-elves…”

It wasn’t like Pucey’s standards were really that high, so that didn’t leave me with too great an opinion. “Well, I suppose I should get ready, then. Where’s the bath?”

Pucey pointed toward the door at the end of the hall. Even though I’d been expecting it, I still couldn’t help but sneer. “We’re expected to share?”

“Well, we are talking the Ministry, Malfoy. You’re lucky they don’t have us all sleeping in one room.”

“Watch them try to enforce that.” I scowled, then nodded at Pucey. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you at supper.” Then I closed the door in his face and went to the small bag they’d allowed before they’d dragged me from my home. He’d obviously taken the hint, as he was gone when I went back out into the hall.

The bathroom was cramped, and if there hadn’t been a shower, I’d have left right then. As it was, my temper was wearing so thin I was amazed I hadn’t snapped and started killing everyone myself. This was ridiculous, holding us all hostage while some psychopath tried to kill us. If he was even after us…it was possible the murders were just random and bad chance on our part. Maybe he’d go after some Muggleborn witch next.

I took a long, leisurely shower to try to calm myself. It didn’t really work, but by the time I was showered and dressed, it was nearly suppertime, and my mask was much more firmly in place. I only wondered how long it would take Potter to knock it out of place once more.

I made my way downstairs, where the air in the sitting room felt something akin to a party. A party where the boys and girls were standing on the opposite sides of the rooms, watching each other warily. But in this case, it was Slytherins versus Aurors.

Blaise sat in the centre of the couch, surrounded by Pucey and Warrington, his head on Pucey’s shoulder. When had they become so buddy-buddy?

“Blaise?”

He stiffened visibly at the sound of my voice, then lifted his head to turn to look at me. “Draco. Hi.”

Well, wasn’t that a lukewarm greeting? “Are you…all right?”

Warrington snorted. “What do you think, Malfoy? He was attacked last week.”

I glowered at Warrington, then focused on Blaise. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all since the attack, and his skin had gone from its normal golden-toffee to rather grey. I took a step closer, and he sat up, facing away from me as he stood. “Dinner should be ready.” Then he walked from the room.

I blinked. He hadn’t snubbed me like that since we were students. What the hell was going on? I wanted to chase after him, but Malfoys didn’t chase anyone. And we’d learned that the hard way. So I followed slowly after, as though that had been the direction I’d been heading all along.

Unfortunately, Blaise had decided to make Potter his best friend, as he was sitting at his side when I arrived in the dining room. There was no way I was sitting anywhere near Potter, and I had the feeling Blaise had known that. I ended up sitting at the far end of the table from them, and glowered in their direction through the entire meal, not even paying any notice to whatever the Ministry had so graciously provided.

After supper, I moved to intercept him once more, but he escaped the room and hurried up the stairs before I could catch him. “Blaise!”

He turned at his door the floor above mine, watching me approach warily, the door partially open behind him, but blocked by his body. “What?”

I stepped closer, and he pulled back into the doorway. It hurt, but I didn’t let it show. I couldn’t. “What is going on, Blaise?” I asked, my voice low so that no one could overhear us.

He avoided my gaze. “I…can’t do this, Draco. Not right now. Please…”

“Blaise, what are you…” But before I could finish, he’d stepped back into his room, and shut the door between us. I stared at it blankly for a moment, until one of the Aurors walked past, then walked back down the stairs to my own room.

Someone had obviously convinced him that this was my fault. Or that I should have been there that night. But why? Maybe it was the real killer, trying to get closer to Blaise? To keep me from being able to help or otherwise protect him? I was tempted to run back to his room and pound on the door until he opened it again to assure him I would never hurt him, and that whoever had convinced him of that was the person most likely to hurt him, and that he needed to tell the Aurors who it was.

Except that Malfoys didn’t make scenes.

I got ready for bed, considered going to take another shower, then decided against it. I wasn’t up to running into anyone else at the moment. It could wait. Instead, I crawled into the bed, trying to find a comfortable position and wished I was at home in my own bed for a long time before I finally fell asleep.

^v^

 _There are people everywhere. I can feel them on my skin; in the air. So many I can take._

 _The one I want most is furthest away, though. I move through the room, trying to determine which direction he is in from where I stand. He was so beautiful the last time. I cannot wait to have him again. It is too bad these mortals burn out so easily. But at least he is here._

 _And no one can keep me from him._

 _I move through the walls, my magic making everything between us insubstantial. Nothing will stop me from taking him again._

 _But then, something does. There is magic, somehow more powerful than my own, keeping me from him. The wall is as insubstantial as before, but the magic keeps me out. I test it, hoping to crack it, or to go over it, but it seems to surround the room like a bubble. My prey is being kept from me. I cannot hold back the howl of rage at the knowledge._

 _Then, someone else is there with me. I turn to snarl and take out my rage on him. But I find myself brought up short by green. The stick of wood is nothing. His words are like wind. But his eyes… The rage is gone in a flash. I tilt my head and advance on him._

 _His voice rises and he backs up as I advance, but I do not let that stop me. The others have been nothing compared to him. Empty and unfulfilling. He is bright and shining, his magic rising up to meet mine even as I move closer. He is unlike anyone I’d ever encountered before._

 _He is still brandishing that stick at me, so I grab it from him, tossing it to the floor, then run my nose along his neck, inhaling his scent. I’ve never smelled anything so enticing before. I **need** him. When I look up to meet those green eyes again, they are wide, and his fear rolls over me. But I can feel something else from him as well. Some small part of him wants this. Wants me. And I haven’t even used my powers on him yet._

 _“Mine,” I growl low in my throat. He tries to respond, but before he can, I cover his mouth with mine._

 _And then the world goes black._

^v^

There were voices when I woke.

“…Going to do with him now?” The voice was feminine, and vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t mother, or Astoria. Or even Pansy.

“Throw him in Azkaban, and good riddance.” That one was more familiar, and not in a good way. Nasal and crude. Weasley. But what was he doing here? I kept my eyes closed, though I was tense now, waiting to hear more.

“Ron…” That was Potter, and now the night before—at least, I hoped it was only the night before—came back to me. I narrowly opened my eyes to look around. I was in a cell. Now that I was aware of where I was, I was amazed I hadn’t been uncomfortable on the cot they’d dumped me

Even more worrying was the dream. I'd always assumed they were just that. They'd started in Azkaban, but since I'd always woken up in my own bed the next morning, I'd just assumed that that was all they were. But if this one had truly happened, that meant that the others likely had, as well. And that I had been the one to attack my friends. No wonder Blaise had avoided me last night. But why hadn't he accused me if that was true?

Potter and his cronies were still gabbing. "What do you think caused it?" That sounded like Granger. She always did have to know every little thing.

"I don't know. I do know that he wasn't himself. It was like he couldn't understand a word I said. Like…like something had taken him over."

"You mean something was possessing him?" Granger asked.

"Maybe… Zabini did say that he wasn't like this before he went to Azkaban. Maybe something took control of him there?"

"You mean…that might not even be Malfoy in there?" Weasley asked, sounding horrified.

"I don't know." Potter looked up, and our eyes met. I turned away, but it was too much to hope that he hadn’t noticed I was awake. Hopefully he wouldn’t decide to start talking to me, as I really didn’t want to deal with his little pals. And I was fairly sure I didn't want to even talk to Potter, though I doubted he'd give me much choice when it came to that.

"Could be any number of things,” he finally answered Weasley. “I mean…might have been something Voldemort did. Or part of the Mark. Or he could have been bitten by something, and not even known it."

"Oh, come on," Weasley said. "You don't honestly expect me to believe he had no clue he was doing these things, do you?"

"Well look at the evidence, Ron," Granger said. "He attacked his own circle. Why would he do that?"

Weasley snorted. "Please. Slytherins don't have friends. They have acquaintances. They don't actually care what happens to each other. It's no shock they'd turn on each other…"

"I don't think he did, Ron, okay?" That was Potter again. And why the hell was he defending me, anyway? "I think Zabini knew, and didn't want to say. He talked around it, but…I think he was as scared for Malfoy as he was for himself."

Weasley snorted again. If I hadn't been dead-set against speaking to the idiot, that would have been the point when I'd spoken up, but there was no way I was saying a word until Potter's two sidekicks left.

"Maybe it's not something that took him over, though. Maybe he's got some sort of genetic inheritance," Granger suggested.

"Nah. 'Cause then his dad would have gone around attacking people too, wouldn't he?"

"Not necessarily, Ron. It could come from his mother's side, and only be a male trait. Or maybe the stress of being in Azkaban triggered it. We can't know for sure. Not unless we test him."

Test me? Test me how? Were they going to quiz me on facts or something? Granger was as loony as Lovegood. Honestly. I couldn't quite repress a snort at that.

"Actually, Hermione, that was why I wanted to talk to you. For now, Kingsley wants to keep this quiet, until we figure out what exactly happened. I mean, for all we know, a Dementor caught him while he was in Azkaban, and has somehow taken up residence inside his body, and has been wandering around while he's asleep, killing people. Kingsley wants to know just what sort of creature this is before the press finds out."

"Oh, come on, Harry. It's Malfoy! How do you know he didn't use his magic?"

"You didn't see him that night, Ron. He…didn't look right. He was kind of…translucent. And his power…he didn't feel any of the spells I threw at him at all. It took a stunner in the back to take him down, and even then, we had to do it several times to keep him down."

I didn't recall that bit. I wasn't sure whether to be alarmed or proud that it had taken so much power to subdue me.

Weasley snorted again. "Please. He's probably got you under some kind of spell. You know…I bet he's a Lumia. You know, those snake-people? Down in Egypt or something? Don't they lure people in then kill them?"

"They're called Lamia, Ron. And they're Greek. And they have snakes for bodies. Not to mention the fact that they're always women. He didn't have a snake's body, did he, Harry?"

"No. He was just…a bit more…there than usual. Like his power was shining out of him, or something. Like a night-light."

That made Weasley snicker. "A night-light? Ooooh…I'm so scared…"

"You should be, Ron. Whatever happened between Malfoy and his friends, it killed two of them, and badly injured a third."

"I still say it's some sort of pact or something. Maybe the after effect of being Death Eaters?"

"Zabini wasn't a Death Eater, Ron. Look…I just need to know…can you help us figure this one out, Hermione? We need someone who can keep quiet while the tests are being performed, and can come up with ways of figuring out exactly what he is."

"Of course, Harry. I'll go to the library right now and start looking up possible candidates for what this could be, and tests to prove whether it is or not. Ron can watch the kids for a few days."

"Sure. We'll all head over to mum and dad's for a bit. Get them out of the way, so you can work, okay?" I nearly snorted. Figured that Granger would wear the pants in that family.

"Thanks, Ron."

"Thanks, both of you. Really. I don't know what I'd do without you."

“Get attacked and eaten by Malfoy, apparently,” Granger said. I could hear the bemused humor in her voice.

“I’m…not sure that was the appetite he was looking to appease, Hermione.”

There was a long pause, then Weasley said, “That’s just sick, mate.”

I’d stiffened at the words. I’d been running from this ever since I’d first started having the dreams. And now my worst fear was confirmed—and Potter knew. This thing inside me, whatever it was, lusted after men, and carried me along for the ride. I’d thought maybe I’d be able to get rid of it by living a normal life. Marriage, a son…but if this creature had been going after men… I curled into a ball, not wanting to think about it, even as my thoughts swirled faster and faster in my head.

The words were so much buzzing around me after that, and I only noticed they’d stopped several minutes later, and looked up from my cot. Potter was watching me, and Granger and Weasley were gone.

“Thought you might be awake.” His voice was professional, but I could hear an undercurrent of something underneath.

“Go on. You know you want to,” I told him as I sat up.

“Want to…what?”

“Laugh at me. Tell me you knew I was the one. Gloat.” I’d never hated him more than this moment.

“Why would I do that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Like you don’t want to. Sounded like Weasley was having a field day.”

“Yes, well…Ron and I aren’t the same person, Malfoy. And he wasn’t there.” He went silent at that, and I could see he was working up the courage to ask what he wanted to. “How long?”

I wasn’t sure if I should answer or not. But maybe Potter could help me get rid of it? He did have that saving people thing, didn’t he? “Started in Azkaban.”

Potter stared at me for a moment. “But…we don’t have any strange deaths in Azkaban…”

“Don’t look at me. I have no clue which of these were…” I looked away. I couldn’t say the word ‘kills.’ It was just too much. “All I know is that is when I started having those dreams.”

Potter nodded. “So…you’ve been having them ever since?”

I shook my head. “They stopped shortly after I started spending time with Astoria.”

“But they came back?”

I scowled. I’d been so certain they were gone for good, happy enough in my marriage to Astoria, and then, right about the time Scorpius had been born, they’d returned. “Yes.”

“You know I have to ask, Malfoy. We have to know if there are other victims out there.”

“I know. I…I don’t know. I don’t…remember, exactly. It’s like…wet dreams.” I flushed. “I don’t remember everything. Just the inherent sensuality of the dreams. Sometimes faces.” Theo’s face flashed in my memory, and I had to close my eyes as the horror of it crashed over me. “Would you…please…leave me alone? Just for a bit?”

“I can’t Malfoy. I’m sorry. But…We don’t have to talk, if you need?”

I nodded, and we lapsed into silence. I guess he’d been made my keeper for now. Lucky him. I rolled back onto my cot and curled into a ball, trying not to think or remember.

I must have eventually fallen asleep, because I woke to Potter calling my name. He waited until I’d turned to look at him before saying, “You have a visitor.”

The words should have been soothing, but if anything they worried me more. I didn’t want Astoria or Scorpius or my parents to see me like this. “Who?”

“Zabini asked to see you.”

That was enough to shake me out of my stupor. “Blaise? Really? I…” And then the reality of the situation washed over me again. “I can’t. He…shouldn’t.”

“He said you’d say that. He’ll be fine on this side of the bars. And…you’re awake, so… Really, I think it will be okay, Malfoy. And I’ll be here. I’m even willing to cast a muffling spell if you’d like to talk privately. Okay?”

I was torn. I wanted to talk to Blaise again, but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Flashes of our nights out with Theo filled my mind, combining with his reaction to me in the safe-house. “All…all right. Just…don’t leave us alone?”

“I promise.” He looked almost sad as he said it. For a moment he just stared at me, then turned and moved to the door, tapping at it with his wand. It opened, and Blaise came in. He obviously hadn’t slept.

As soon as he saw me, he moved toward my cell. “Draco…” He stopped just short of the bars. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault I attacked you…” I looked away, sighing.

“It wasn’t…I mean…Theo and I…we knew…” He sighed, and I looked up, alarmed.

“Knew what, exactly?”

He looked apologetic. It was a look I’d never seen him wear before. “That you weren’t…entirely human. That we were playing with fire. We knew you weren’t fully aware of what was going on, too. We should have…said something.”

“You…knew? What are you…how? When?”

Blaise couldn’t meet my eyes. “We all went out for a drink. After Scorpius was born? The usual. And then you went home. And…came back about ten minutes later. But you were different. More…intense. Watching everything around you like you didn’t know what you were seeing. But you knew us. You didn’t speak much. Just one-word sentences.

“At first…We thought you might have been hexed. We tried to get you to go home, but you saw this bloke. And it was like…you lit up.”

“Oh, god…” I hid my face in my hands. “Did I…kill him?”

“No. We never saw you kill anyone, Draco. You just…left him a bit dazed.” He smiled ruefully.

“But…Miles…?”

Blaise shook his head. “We…didn’t know. Miles said he was going to go…talk to you, and that was the last we heard. We didn’t think…that was you.”

“What did I do that night, then?” I asked in a whisper. I didn’t really _want_ to know, but part of me had to.

“It wasn’t so bad, Draco. Really. You just…snogged him and ground against him. It took you a while to work up to more. And…when Theo and I realized…that you weren’t aware of what was going on…We thought…maybe it would be better if you were with someone who wouldn’t spread it about.”

It was all I could do to keep from shaking. My best friends had tried to keep me safe from myself. And because of it, one of them had died. “And so you…let me…attack you?”

“No,” Blaise said slowly. He knew how I’d fought this. That though he felt comfortable sleeping with whoever he wished, I did not. We’d had many conversations about it over the years. “We…had a bit of fun. That’s all.”

The light in the room flared red for a moment, and I stepped away from the bars to calm myself.

“Malfoy?” That was Potter, stepping forward to make sure everything was all right.

I looked up, and my eyes met his. Green. So green. So strong… The moment I felt myself leaning forward, I started. I stepped back, then turned away from them both. Fuck. What was wrong with me? Not only was I some strange creature that killed my friends, but apparently Potter could hypnotize me with only a look?

The two of them were talking quietly behind me, but I tried to ignore them while I regained my composure. When I turned around, Potter was looking as shell-shocked as I’d felt.

Blaise turned back to me. “Are…you okay? I didn’t mean…”

“I know. I’ve…never felt that while I was…I mean…” I closed my eyes, not sure what I meant.

“Theo and I learned quick. Your temper’s rather sudden. I should have been more…careful the way I phrased it. But…Theo and I…You never did anything to us we didn’t want.”

I opened my eyes to glower at him again. “So Theo wanted to die, is that what you’re saying?”

“No! Not that, Draco…” He moved to the bars, his fingers curling around them. “I just…It wasn’t your fault, Draco. It’s like…when someone plays with a dragon…they can’t expect not to get burned. And…you burn so bright…”

Not only did I kill one of my friends, but apparently I’d somehow addicted the other—to me. I could barely keep the growl from my voice when I spoke again. “And Miles? Did he know?”

Blaise looked a bit crazed, and it took me a while to realize where I’d seen a look like that before. There’d been a boy in the year below us who’d gotten hooked on some sort of Muggle drug one year. He’d looked like that the one time I’d asked him why. Like there was nothing better in the world.

“Theo told him. And…he decided to come with us that weekend. To see for himself. It wasn’t your fault, Draco.”

“So you…watched me…”

“No. He…followed you. After you left. Like I said, Theo and I just thought…” He shrugged, his eyes still too over-bright.

Obviously, they’d convinced themselves that I couldn’t harm them. It was enough to turn my stomach. I closed my eyes for a moment. “Get him out of here, Potter. Now.” That said, I retreated back to the far side of my cell and sank to my cot.

There was a bit of shuffling, and someone was arguing, but I paid no attention. I looked down at the floor until I heard the door close.

When I looked up, Potter was standing on the far side of the room, looking at the door as though he wished he were on the other side. I couldn’t really blame him.

“What will you do with me?”

He jumped. I suppose he hadn’t been expecting me to speak. Because surely he couldn’t have forgotten I was here, could he? He turned to look at me, and I had to let my gaze drop from the greenness there. “I…Kingsley…er…Minister Shacklebolt isn’t sure what we should do yet. But you won’t be mistreated, Malfoy.”

I closed my eyes, a flash of the hippogriff in third year appearing in the back of my mind. Apparently Potter would try to save any magical creature—even if he hated it. “Why bother?”

He moved closer. “You can’t just give up, Malfoy. We might not be friends, but I know your behavior has been exemplary since leaving Azkaban.”

“Right.” Because going to nightclubs and abusing people was so exemplary. “I didn’t know you felt that way about murder, Potter. Why was it you killed the Dark Lord again?”

“Because he had no remorse.” He moved toward the cage. “Not like you do. I can see how this is affecting you, Draco,” he told me softly.

Draco? When had I become Draco to him? “Oh, can you?”

“I know how I would feel, if it were Ron or Hermione…” He sighed. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

I felt something surge in me at that, but I refused to meet his eyes. “And what, exactly do you think you can do, Potter? I killed two people.”

“But not on purpose. Or at least, it doesn’t sound like it.”

“You don’t know that. You weren’t there.” This time I did look up. The room was fuzzy. The only thing in focus was him. He looked like a deer, startled in a sunlit field.

“No. But Zabini didn’t look like he was terrified of you. Just for you,” he answered, his voice soft.

I’d never felt quite like this before. Like I was burning up. And I knew the beast was stirring inside me. “He should be. You should be,” I told him, as I saw him step forward.

“I’m not,” he whispered. “I saw you that night. Zabini’s right. You can’t blame a creature for acting on instinct. Hermione will figure this out. You’ll see. And then…everything will be okay. I swear.”

“And if there is no cure?”

He blinked at me. “Cure?”

“If we can’t get rid of this…thing…inside me?”

“Then we’ll find a way to help you control it.”

I couldn’t help myself. I moved towards him. “Will you?” I asked softly.

Those green eyes were widening again. “Wh-what?”

“Help me control it?” I purred.

He leaned forward, his face pressing through the bars, and if either of us had been in our right mind, we’d have known it was a bad idea. But as it was, we were both too lost in this connection that had appeared between us the night before.

I reached out to catch his chin in my hand. Before I could do more, though, the door opened, and several wands were pointed at me. I was still conscious enough for that to matter, so I let him go regretfully, then backed off, sinking down onto the cot.

He was muttering at them, but they weren’t listening, and finally he blew up at them. “I can handle myself! Leave it alone already. I’m fine!”

“You didn’t look fine,” one of the younger ones said. If he’d spoken that way to me, I’d have smacked him and put him on report, but Potter just glared at him.

“Look, just go back to the door, okay? Supper should be arriving shortly.”

“And when are you going off duty?” a girl who looked at least two years younger than us asked him.

“When we figure out what’s going on, Pellam. Now get back to your post before I dock you both for it.”

The Aurors who’d rushed to his defense glanced at each other, then moved back to the door. Before they reached it, though, the door opened, and Minister Shacklebolt stepped through. They seemed a bit happier to go after that, as though they knew he would be able to talk Potter out of such idiocy. Likely, he probably would. Shacklebolt seemed mild-mannered, but unlike his predecessors, he was able to get things done.

“Harry. Someone said the alarm went off. Is everything under control?” He glanced at me, then back at Potter.

“Everything’s fine, Kingsley. Just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“A misunderstanding.” He glanced at me again, and I glowered at him. He looked back at Potter again, and I could see the change in his demeanor. “Harry…if he tried to escape…”

“He didn’t, sir,” Harry said, meeting Shacklebolt’s gaze. I wasn’t sure I would have been able to. “We were just talking.”

“Talking.” Harry nodded, and Shacklebolt let the silence stretch out between them for too long before he answered. “And should I ask what you were…talking…about?”

Potter flushed almost as scarlet as his house’s color, and I snorted. Shacklebolt ignored me. “Need I remind you, Harry, that if he escapes, we could have further deaths?”

“No, sir,” Harry muttered.

“Now, how did the wards get broken?”

“I…reached through, sir.”

“You…reached through?”

I saw him wince, and he nodded.

Shacklebolt sighed. “I don’t think I’m going to ask why, Harry. But you’re going home. For at least twelve hours. And that’s an order. Clear?”

Potter glanced at me, then back at Shacklebolt. “Clear, sir.”

“Good. I’ll have Cisco come down and relieve you. And I want you to go straight home. No stopping at your desk, or staying here to ‘talk.’ Clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Potter sagged a little.

When Shacklebolt left, after a few more words of wisdom, Potter turned back to my cell, but I had no interest in having any more ‘conversation’ with him. I lay down on my cot, and turned my back to him. Surprisingly enough, I fell asleep almost immediately.


	2. Chapter 2

^v^

In the days that followed, I had several visits from Granger. Sometimes she wanted blood or hair samples, other times she would ask me questions—often quite invasive. And had I not wanted this dealt with, I’d have told her to buzz off.

As it was, we ended up talking several times. Sometimes with Potter in attendance, and sometimes with other Aurors there. Ever since being reprimanded by Shacklebolt, Potter’d kept his distance. But I could still feel him watching me as I ate or lay on my cot.

Blaise didn’t return. I didn’t know if it was Potter’s doing or not, but I was grateful not to have to see that look on his face again. I think it would have broken me.

Granger had already ruled out several species, and I was beginning to wonder if we would ever figure out what had taken me over. Still, while I was here, it seemed unable to harm anyone else, so that was a start. I’d had a few of my ‘dreams’ while being here. Usually the nights that Potter wasn’t here, though I tried to ignore that fact.

The worst part of my time in the cell, though, happened shortly after an incident with one of the Aurors. Many of those who came to watch me were higher-level Aurors who’d had some role or other in the war, or who had lost someone in the war. They all felt that I should never have been let out of Azkaban. Some more than others.

The worst was Creevey. I vaguely recalled him from Hogwarts. He’d had an older brother who had died in the final battle, and seemed to think that was all my fault. He lost no opportunity to tell me just how much.

The particular incident was one where he’d been goading me all afternoon. Usually, I managed to ignore him, but this time, he went too far.

“It’s too bad we couldn’t just keep you from breeding, Malfoy. That would have done us all a favour.”

The one thing I was truly proud of in my life was my son, and hearing that from him was enough to have me seeing red. “Shut up.” My voice was low, but I knew he’d heard me.

Still, he kept talking. “Maybe we should do what your kind did, and try to drive that pretty little family of yours out of that grand Manor you have. Why didn’t they take that from you, anyway?”

The beast was stirring under my skin, and this time, I didn’t even try to fight it. I advanced on him, a soft growl growing as he continued to speak.

“I bet that brat of yours would squeal real good if we threw him into the street. Don’t you Malf—ah!”

I’d given him no warning, simply reached between the bars to strangle him. It was his own fault for coming so close to the cage to mock me.

It had taken four of them to get me off him. And that only with one hand. I was stunned, and after that, I didn’t see Creevey again. Nor were any of the Aurors allowed to be alone with me. Not even Potter.

All told, it was about a week before Granger found the answer. I wasn’t particularly pleased when she did.

It was one of those times when Potter was watching me. I always tried to ignore him when he was there, but it was growing more difficult with each passing day, and usually when he finally left, it was a relief.

We could tell by the way Granger entered, that she’d found something. She was excited, and waving around a book that I was sure could have knocked out a troll. “What is it, Granger? Do stop babbling and make some sense.”

“It’s so obvious, really. The fact that both victims burned up—literally. We thought it might be a fire-spell. But it’s not! It was their own bodies reacting to a chemical change and getting overwhelmed by it! The sexual element to the cases, the fact that it’s a nighttime occurrence…”

I rolled my eyes as she continued to babble on about the clues, then finally broke in. “And that means what, exactly?” I asked, even more annoyed at her than I usually was. She was acting like this was some sort of exciting school project, and not my life that was on the line. I had a fleeting curious thought over whether she’d ever done the same to Potter.

She blinked at me, as though she’d lost her train of thought. “Uh…Incubus. You’re an incubus, Draco.”

I snorted. It was true, an incubus did fit the symptoms—they were nighttime creatures who overwhelmed people with their sexual powers. But there were a few problems with that idea. “Not possible. I’d know. Mother and father would have told me. Not to manage the fact that no one’s seen an incubus in centuries. Not since Dumbledore was a baby, at least.”

“They wouldn’t have told you if they didn’t know, Malfoy,” Harry put in, apparently entirely discounting the idea that incubi were extinct, as though extinct creatures popped up around him every day. “You think it’s possible, Hermione?”

She nodded. “All of the signs are there, Harry. How they can sort of…hypnotize their victims. The way it’s been connected to a sort of dream-like state for him. The fact that the two deaths were burned up—from the inside out.”

“And how, exactly, could I get to be this age with no one knowing that I wasn’t pure-blooded, hm?”

“It’s not uncommon, Draco. With incubi, most people have no clue that the creature has impregnated a woman. Rather like a cuckoo’s egg. The children don’t even realize they’re not human until something happens…”

“Are you suggesting that my father isn’t my father, Granger?” I could feel my eyes glowing as the anger rose in me again.

“No, no! Really, it could have been anyone in your family line, Draco. I mean…you said that incubi have been extinct for over a century. For all we know, it could have been generations back on your mother’s side. And just…lain dormant until now.”

“But surely someone would have known, Hermione,” Potter was saying. “…I mean…the Malfoys…the Blacks…they’re well-known families. Surely someone would have heard. Wouldn’t there be some sort of record of it?”

“Depends how long ago, Harry. It might just be so deeply buried—centuries ago, even.” She turned to me. “You said this started in Azkaban, right? Maybe being there brought out the creature?”

Even as she spoke, I knew she was right. It did fit. And it also meant something else. I felt something break inside me. “So there’s no cure, then.” I looked at Potter. “So what will your Minister do with me now?”

Potter looked away, obviously not certain how to answer, but Granger had one. “No, there’s no cure…but…there is a way to control it…”

We both looked at her, startled. Why hadn’t she said so earlier? “Control it?” I asked. “How?”

“Well…some stories talk about the incubus being…tamed.”

I made a face at her. “Tamed. And how is this miracle accomplished, Granger?”

“By mating.”

“I’m already married, Granger, in case you missed that fact. And perhaps it worked for a short while, but it came back. So tell me how this is supposed to help me?”

“Because you…the incubus…is focusing on men, Malfoy.”

I flushed at her words, pointedly not looking at Potter. “So…what? I’m supposed to marry a man as well?” I tried to drawl it, but I was horrified at how petulant it sounded.

“Not marry, but…” Granger glanced at Potter, and I scowled. He was biting his lip and glancing between me and Granger, obviously thinking very hard about what she was implying.

Well, I wasn’t interested in that, if that was supposed to be my ‘cure.’ “No, thank you. Lock me up. I don’t care.” I moved back to my cot.

The other two were silent for a moment, then Potter spoke. “Hermione, could you…”

“No!” This time I growled it straight at him. “I won’t! I’m _married_! And I happen to love my wife.”

Those green eyes focused on me once more, but this time, there was no hesitation. The were sparking with anger—and something else as well. “I love my wife too, Malfoy. But if it’s this or you ending up in Azkaban again? Surely that’s got to make a difference?”

“I’m not _gay_!”

“I’m not either. But…”

“What the fuck do you care, Potter? You hate me! Why should any of this matter to you, anyway? I’m not a pet for you to take care of. So just bug the fuck off.”

“Listen, Malfoy…” Potter reached out to catch the bars, obviously frustrated, but Granger stopped him.

“No, Harry…” She turned to me. “Draco…unless you claim your mate, the Incubus inside you will continue to get worse—more enflamed with anger until it consumes you utterly. You’ll go mad.”

“Well…” I glanced at Potter, who was watching me warily. “Not him. If I have to do this, why can’t I choose Blaise?”

“You’re not the one who chooses, Draco. The Incubus has already made the choice for you. When it saw Harry outside Zabini’s room that night.”

Potter and I both stared at her. That was something new. Why hadn’t she said so before? “What do you mean, Hermione?” Potter asked.

“Well, they’re…not exactly like Veela, but…there are recorded cases of incubi finding their mates. And once they have, they calm down. So long as they’re not kept from them.”

“Oh…no fucking way, Granger. You’re delusional. Why would I want Potter?”

“I don’t know. But it’s true, isn’t it? He’s the one you’ve responded to time and again, right?”

I refused to answer, then turned to Potter, who was looking thoughtful. “No! I don’t care! I am _not_ letting you fuck me, Potter,” I growled.

He opened his mouth, but Granger spoke before he could. “Actually…” I glowered darkly at Granger, and she flushed, but it didn’t stop her. “Incubi are…generally dominant,” she said haltingly, then glanced worryingly at Harry.

His eyes went a bit wide at that, then glanced at me. “Dominant? As in…?” She mercifully nodded before he could finish the sentence, but I wasn’t mollified.

“I don’t care. I’m not gay. And I won’t sleep with another man. Least of all _him_.” I glowered at Potter, who seemed to be ignoring my words utterly.

He was silent for a few minutes, watching me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Then he turned back to Granger. “I’ll talk to him, Hermione. And thank you.”

She looked as though she wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it. He glanced once at me, then walked her to the door and asked one of the guards outside the room to join the Auror who’d been assigned duty with him in the room for that afternoon.

“Where are you going?” I asked, my voice harsher than I wanted it to be, but at least it didn’t sound whiny or needy. I’d expected him to stay and argue with me about whether or not I was going to fuck him. I hadn’t expected him to leave me here alone.

“To arrange a few things, Draco,” he said, his voice calm, as though he weren’t contemplating something any straight man in his right mind would have balked at. And then he walked from the room, ignoring any further protests.

I glowered at the two Aurors, who looked at me as though I were about to explode. Which I suppose it was very possible I might. Potter returned in about an hour, then handed the two Aurors scrolls before moving to my cell and waved me closer. Well, I wasn’t about to just obey high-and-mighty-Potter. I shook my head.

“Fine. Sit over there. I just talked to the Minister. Told him we could get you under control, but that you and I would have to be alone together to do it. I’ve convinced him. But we only have one chance, Draco.”

“Stop calling me that. We’re not friends, Potter.”

“Fine, Malfoy. Whatever you want. I just wanted to tell you—I’ve convinced Kingsley to let us try this. I’ve arranged for a room, and for us to be alone. If it doesn’t work, we can try something else, but right now, we’ve got no other options.”

“No. I refuse. I’m not gay.”

“Then you and I will sit in a comfortable room for twelve hours, and you’ll come back here in the morning, and no harm done.”

The fact that Potter was pushing this—not to get one over on me, but to actually help me, even just to make me more comfortable, meant a lot. But I couldn’t say it. Instead, I focused on something simpler. “I want to speak to my wife.”

Potter nodded. “I need to go home and talk to Ginny. I’ll have someone bring your wife here, okay?”

He turned away, but I called after him. “Potter.” He turned to look at me questioningly. “Why?”

He looked at me for a long moment before he spoke. “Because no one deserves to be caged for who they are, Malfoy.”

“And you suddenly care that it’s me being caged?”

“Would it make a difference if I said yes, Malfoy?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, and after waiting another few moments for me to do so, he nodded to me once, then left.

He seemed so calm about all this. So certain. In some ways I envied him that. If he had been the one who had to fuck me, I’d have run for the hills, and left him to be locked up for the rest of his life. And I knew he had to have known that, yet here he was, willing to give whatever I needed so that I could leave this place. He didn’t even like me, yet he was willing. But why? And how could I possibly accept? I tried to forget the few moments we’d already shared, when the Incubus had surged inside me until I forgot myself for a moment. Even now, though, I could feel the lust for him curling in my belly, waiting for his return. I wanted to fight it, but even now, I knew it would likely be a losing battle.

There was a more pressing concern, and I focused on it to distract myself. How was I going to explain this to Astoria? I truly was fond of her. Ours had never been a great love, but we had a good marriage. Better than my parents’, I was sure. But how would she take the fact that I would have to sleep with another man to calm this—thing inside me?

Fortunately, I didn’t have too long to brood over what I would say. She arrived less than a half hour after Potter had left.

“Draco! Oh, darling… What have they done to you? Should I contact the solicitor again?”

I shook my head and stood up. I had no idea what she’d been told, so I would have to start from the beginning. Hopefully she wouldn’t take Scorpius and run when she understood. “No, it’s all right, my love.” I moved towards the cage. “How is Scorpius?”

“Furious that he wasn’t allowed to come see you. Draco…what happened? Even Blaise won’t tell me why they’re holding you…”

Well, that answered that question, at least. I took a deep breath and braced myself. Not only for her reaction, but also because I had yet to truly say it out loud. “I…was the one attacking everyone, Astoria.”

She blinked at me for just a second, then regained her composure. “Nonsense, Draco. You said you didn’t, and I believed you.”

“I…didn’t know, Astoria. It’s…more complicated than I realized.”

“Complicated? Draco…either you did it, in which case, you’d remember, or you didn’t, and therefore there can be no complication.”

“Or I had a reason not to remember, Astoria.” It was hard to meet her eyes. “It seems…I’m not quite as pureblooded as I thought.”

She huffed. “Ridiculous, Draco. Everyone knows that there is no purer blood than the Malfoys and the Blacks…”

“Yes, well, it turns out there was something that everyone _didn’t_ know. It seems I have a bit of incubus blood running through my veins.”

Again she blinked at me, the words seeming to confound her. “You’re…Draco…that’s ridiculous.” A light flush spread across her cheeks, and she leaned forward. “Surely I, of anyone, would know if you were a…sex demon.” Her flush grew darker.

This was the part I had been dreading. “Not if it were only focused on…men.”

She looked like I’d hit her. “Men?”

Unable to find my voice any longer, I nodded.

“But…Draco…we’ve been married for…for years. Surely…”

“I didn’t…I don’t. But…There is something inside me that…needs it, apparently. But I swear to you, Astoria…this means nothing. You and Scorpius…you’re my life. Without you…” Without her, the Malfoy name would still be in the gutter, where it had lain after father had been sent to Azkaban at the end of my fifth year. I needed her. As mother to my son, as a good Slytherin who took no side during the war, as a good woman, who supported me in everything I did. “Please believe me, Astoria. If there was any other way…”

“Any other way to what? Draco? Oh, god…they’re not sending you back to Azkaban, are they? We’ll fight it. Your father…”

“No. You can’t tell him. Not ever, Astoria. No…it’s…nothing like that. I…” And now that I’d reached the crux of the matter, my tongue no longer seemed able to function. I wished I could take her hand. That I could tell her this when we were alone, rather than in front of an audience who were watching our every move. “Astoria…”

“What is it, Draco? What are they going to do?”

“You must believe me, my love. This isn’t something I would even contemplate if I had any other options…but…to keep the creature under control, I will need to sleep…” I could feel my cheeks heat, and lowered my voice, even though the Aurors had already heard both Potter and Granger mention what would happen. “I will…have to sleep with…another man.”

The reaction this time was far more physical. She stepped away, her eyes closing. Obviously, it was too much. “Astoria…please…”

“But…” She looked up at me, obviously lost. “Draco…can’t I…?”

“I wish you could, Astoria. It…has to be the creature’s mate.”

The words seemed to calm her—but not in a good way. “And I am not, is that what you are saying?”

“You are my wife. But the creature…”

“You speak as if it were something other than yourself, Draco. But it is you who will be doing this. Your body…” She shuddered. “I can’t…you can’t do this! We promised to keep only to each other!”

“And I would! I will. If I could do this another way…with you…I would.” Even as I said it, something in me roiled at the words. Hated the very idea of giving up Potter. I felt broken. “I’m sorry.” They were words I’d never said to anyone before. I truly meant them. But I also knew that this was something that would happen, whether I willed it or not. The creature seemed to be insisting upon it.

She stood quietly for a moment, then met my eyes. “And our son, Draco? How will this effect him?”

“He will never have to know, Astoria. I would never tell him. And I would hope you would feel the same.”

“But if this should rise in him as well? He has your blood, Draco!”

The thought brought me up short. But it was easily enough dismissed. “This happened because I was sent to Azkaban, Astoria. I do not think he has enough of this…creature in him for this to happen. But we can have them check, if you would like?”

She nodded, haltingly, then met my eyes. “Why did this happen?”

“I wish I knew, my love.” I wanted to put my arms around her and tell her it would be all right, even if we both knew it was a lie. She looked so lost.

“Draco…” Before she could say more, though, the door to the holding area was slammed open and a sharp voice filled the room.

“You can’t keep me out. I have every right to see the bastard!”

I rolled my eyes. Potter’s wife. Lovely. “Astoria, perhaps…”

That sharp voice cut across mine. “Malfoy!” The youngest of the Weasleys advanced on me before I could say my good-byes to my wife. “Whatever you’ve done to Harry, you can’t have him. So take off whatever spell you’ve cast on him and focus on someone else. Preferably someone who isn’t married.”

“I made no choice, Weasley. And perhaps it escaped your notice that I am married as well?”

She gave Astoria an appraising look, then focused on me once more. “Yes, well, we all know how dissolute your family is, Malfoy. I wouldn’t put it past you to have family orgies all the time.”

That was enough to garner a great sniff from Astoria. “I’d always thought you and your family were overreacting when it came to the Weasleys, Draco. I do apologize for ever thinking it. Allow me to assure you, Mrs Potter…we do no such thing. Draco and I are quite devoted to each other.” She turned to me. “If this is the only way, Draco…then you have my full support.” Her eyes were flashing now, and I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Whatever it takes, my love. So long as you return to me.”

I could have kissed her, had bars and wards not been in the way. “Thank you, my love.” I smiled at her. “Will you give our son a hug from me?”

She nodded, then turned to scowl at Weasley again. “I will thank you not to abuse my husband so, Mrs Potter. Perhaps you should remember that your own husband has a mind of his own, and that he does have the ability to make his own choice in this matter?” With that, she nodded to the other woman, then left, her chin held high. I couldn’t have been prouder of her.

Weasley looked like she could chew through the bars of my cage, she was so angry. Her eyes followed Astoria out of the room, then focused on me. “Tell him you don’t want him to be the one, Malfoy. We both know you hate each other. Why should Harry have to suffer for this little problem of yours?”

“For your information, _Weasley_ , he was the one who volunteered. I wouldn’t have even considered it. To be honest, I don’t want to touch him.” She opened her mouth, but I continued before she could respond. “Still…it will be quite the victory, don’t you think? Me? Fucking him? Because I will. And he’s panting for it. I bet that’s what is truly upsetting you, isn’t it? That he wants this. Wants me.”

“Don’t delude yourself, Malfoy. Harry has a good heart. He can’t stand to see anyone suffering. Even when they deserve it. He doesn’t want you. It’s just pity that’s making him do this.” She might have sounded certain, but I could see her underlying insecurities, and I grinned.

“Are you so sure? Then why are you here, trying to convince me not to do it, rather than him? Hm? You must know you’d have more influence with him than me.”

She faltered only for a second before answering. “He’s too noble for his own good. Surely you know that, Malfoy. After all, you’re taking advantage of it for your own gain…”

My whole body was buzzing, and I moved closer to where she stood, an inch from my side of the bars. “You just hate the thought that he wants this. Because you know he’ll never be the same after. He’ll always want more…”

“Draco.”

We both started at the voice, and I pulled away from the bars at the sight of Potter standing in the doorway. But I wasn’t about to apologize. Not to either of them. I hadn’t asked her to come here. It was her own fault if she couldn’t handle what I’d said.

“Did you hear him?” she was saying to Potter.

“I did. But you know he’s not in his right mind, Ginny. I asked you to trust me. But if you can’t even do that much…” He looked sad, and horribly disappointed.

“Harry…”

“Go home, Ginny. We’ll talk later.”

“Harry…” Before she could say another word, he took her arm—more gently than I would have, had it been Astoria questioning my directions—and led her from the room. I scowled. Still, I supposed he would have to find his own way to come to terms with this, if this was going to happen. After all, I had no intention of letting him move into the Manor.

I moved back to my cot and waited.

Potter was back after a few minutes, looking a tad less annoyed—well, until he looked at me. “That was entirely uncalled for, Draco.”

“I didn’t tell her to come here and shout at me like some lower-class strumpet.”

“But you didn’t need to fan the flames. I’m sure you have some sort of clue, the sort of temper she’s got?”

“I don’t care. Look, I told you. I don’t want to do this. You’re the one insisting. But if we do this, I’m not going to take your wife’s criticisms just because she doesn’t like it. It wasn’t my idea.”

He watched me for a moment, then sighed. He didn’t say a word, just lowered the wards, then opened the door to my cell. “Come on. Let’s get this over with, then.”

I glanced at the Aurors, wondering if they would protest. When they did not, I stood and moved towards Potter, feeling the fluttering of nerves inside me. I pushed them down ruthlessly, then moved past Potter toward the door. He was a step behind me.

“I wouldn’t advise trying to escape, Draco. The rest of them still don’t trust you.”

“What? And you do?”

“I trust that you will do what is in your best interests so that you can go home and be with your family, Draco.” He said it with a tone of conviction that suggested he knew me better than I was certain he could. Never mind the fact that he was right.

“So where are we going?”

“They’ve prepared a room near my office. There’s a meal, and a bed, and chairs, so that we can be comfortable, whatever happens.”

“Lovely,” I answered stiffly.

“Kingsley doesn’t want you leaving the Ministry until we’re sure this will work.”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” We walked in silence after that, moving upstairs and into the lifts that carried us up to the Aurors’ offices.

“It’s down this way,” Potter said, leading the way now. He led me to a room that had obviously been set up in haste. It was hardly comfortable looking, but if things went well, we would not be there long enough to be too uncomfortable. There was a supper laid out on a conference table, and a small-looking bed that I avoided looking towards.

Potter stood in the doorway for a few minutes before finally clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Shall we eat?”

I nodded, too nervous at the moment to speak, and not trusting my voice not to crack if I tried. We settled on either side of the table and ate the provided sandwiches and salad in utter silence. We’d never had a truly civil conversation in our lives, and both of us were too nervous to try to start now, the knowledge of what we were about to do heavy around us.

I still wanted to know why Potter was willing. If our roles had been reversed, I’d have refused up and down, even if it had meant his death. I started to ask a few times, but my tongue didn’t seem to want to move.

He was the one to finally break the silence. “Did you mean what you said to her?”

“I’m not going to apologize for upsetting her,” I told him. “She’s the one who came to harass me.”

“I know, Mal—” He shook his head. “We can’t…not if we’re going to do this. Not here, anyway. If you want to call me Potter in public, that’s fine. But if we’re going to do this…call me Harry, okay?”

I looked at him for a long time, the roll of emotions inside me overwhelming. There had been a time I’d have given anything for those simple words to be directed my way. But I wasn’t a child any longer, and it was hard to let go of my pride and bend to reciprocate. “Fine. Here we are Harry and Draco. But out there…” I raised my chin. “We’re not friends.”

“No,” he said softly. I wasn’t sure, but he sounded a bit sad. “But…maybe someday?”

I scowled. “Unlikely.”

“I can’t do this without…emotion getting involved, Draco. Hell…Just having spent the last week with you, I…feel more connected to you.” He watched me warily. “This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, you know.”

In the back of my mind, I’d known it. I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, but I’d known it. Without its mate, the Incubus would go wild again, and attack more people. This was a lifetime commitment Potter was agreeing to—for my sake. “I know,” I said through clenched teeth.

There was something that scared me even more, though. For this to work, I would have to let go fully. To truly feel the emotions the creature stirred inside me. The emotions that were somehow very attached to Potter. I closed my eyes.

“Draco...” He reached across the table to touch my hand, and I jumped, looking at him wide-eyed.

“What?”

“Maybe…we should just get this over with?”

I swallowed thickly. “I…don’t know.”

He stood, then took my hand. “It’ll be okay, Draco.”

“Why are you comforting me? Why do you even care _what_ I’m feeling?”

“Because I can tell you’re scared, Draco. Because if we do this, we’re going to have this connection for a long time. And because that’s who I am.”

I looked away, then stood up. I’d always thought we were of a height, though there had been a few years in school where I had been taller. He’d sprung up later, though, so I’d never realized that I’d still managed to hold onto that lead. I looked down into his green eyes and felt the creature stir inside me. Even with everything else that had come before, and was about to happen, still it needed something more. More than a simple acknowledgement that he would do this. And this time, there was nothing to stop me from moving closer to touch him.

When I brushed my fingers over his cheek, he leaned into the caress, his eyes going closed. My voice was low and there was something reverberating through it when I spoke, almost a purr of sound. “Tell me why you want this.” I knew that he did. I could feel the truth of it even as I spoke.

“I…” His eyes opened once more, and he looked up at me. “I don’t know…” He swallowed, and my eyes dropped to follow the bob at his throat. I was hard pressed to keep from leaning in and licking it.

“Tell me.”

He looked startled. Hungry. Even as he answered, he was leaning towards me. “Because I…need you.”

It was all I could do not to take him and toss him to the bed right there. The light in the room flared, and my vision narrowed to him once more. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to hold on. Just a few minutes longer.

“Undress. Unless you want me to tear the clothes from your body.” I stepped away, then moved toward the bed, trying to calm my breathing even as my fingers worked the buttons of my robe, shirt, and trousers. I couldn’t seem to get undressed fast enough, and I could feel myself shaking with the need to take, to own…I closed my eyes again, then braced myself against the edge of the bed, still struggling to find a way to calm myself. I didn’t want to savage Potter, after all.

When I’d managed to regain a small bit of composure, I stood and finished undressing. And then I made the mistake of turning to look at him. He was flushed and rumpled, his fingers fumbling with his buttons as he watched me.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered so much as being able to touch him. I didn’t even realize I’d moved to his side until I’d pulled him against me, still half-dressed, and lowered my mouth to his, devouring him with lips and teeth and tongue. His mouth opened eagerly under mine, and his moan as I did so only urged me on. I pulled off what was left of his clothes, then pushed him against the bed.

My fingers painted over his skin, and he writhed and arched under my touch. It was intoxicating. Being with Astoria had never felt like this. And her soft sighs and moans had never enflamed me the way Harry’s did.

“Mine,” I growled, and he moaned in agreement. We were both drunk on the moment, and he clung to me as though he were about to fly away if he should let go.

I nipped down his neck, moaning myself as he let his head fall back and to the side, the show of submission enough to drive me even more out of my head.

My fingers stroked down his sides, then his legs, pulling them up around my waist. He was shaking a bit now, though whether he was scared or overwhelmed, I couldn’t have said. I do know that he responded to every touch and kiss with everything in him. It was intoxicating.

I lowered my head to lick and suck at his nipple, and he began to babble. “Ohgodyes…please, Draco…”

It was the ‘Please’ that stopped me cold, like a bucket of water thrown over me. I could feel myself separate from the creature trying to control me, and pulled away. “Fuck.”

He sat up. “Dr…Draco? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t…I can’t do this.” The creature stirred under my skin, and I had to shut my eyes.

“You weren’t hurting me…”

“It’s not that.” I met his eyes, then had to close them again as the creature surged inside me at the sight. “I’m _not_ gay!”

“I’m not either, but…”

“I don’t…I don’t want…” My skin felt hot and too tight as I fought the creature. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” I finally whispered.

“But…Nott…Bletchley…Zabini. I thought…”

“That wasn’t _me_! I’ve…I mean… I don’t remember enough not to…screw up.”

“You were doing fine, Draco.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, and looked down at my hands. He took them. “Draco…”

“How can you just… _accept_ this?” I asked him, my voice edged with hysteria. “If it were me…” I’d never have let him touch me, let alone contemplated letting him do what I was about to do with him.

He looked at me for a long time before answering. “I don’t know. All I know is that when you touch me, or even look at me just so…” His voice lowered. “I need it.”

The words sent a shiver of desire through me, and I pulled him into a kiss, trying not to think or fight the creature. Perhaps if I let go just a little, it would take over? I pushed him back onto the bed and stretched out over him, but the touch of our cocks brushing together made me gasp and pull back. “Fuck,” I muttered.

“Damn it, Draco! Stop thinking! You want this as much as I do!”

“I don’t! If I didn’t have this…thing inside me…”

“That _thing_ is as much a part of you as your hair, Draco. And the more you fight it, the more it will tear you apart.” Before I could snap back, he pulled me back into another kiss, then rolled us over, so that he was on top of me, grinding our cocks together. I cried out into his mouth, and the creature rose to the fore once more. This time, there was no way I could fight it.

The Incubus broke through the last of my internal resistance, and I rolled us over again, grinding hard against him, the creature inside me drinking in the sounds Harry made. The knowledge of what to do rose to mind now, its experience suddenly easily at hand. I stroked over Harry’s hip, and sent a tendril of the creature’s magic through him, making him writhe in pleasure under me.

“Fu-uck-ing…ah…Draco…what…what was…that?”

“Not entirely sure. Something to make you relax.”

“Felt amazing. Do it again.”

I grinned, then stroked my fingers higher up his side, drawing an almost-pained moan from him. “Fuck me. Please.”

The plea was one that sparked through me, and there was no way I could resist it. I kissed him again, no longer worrying about gay or straight, or what I was doing. I settled between his legs and once more pulled them around my waist, this time grinding against him, the pleasure the action sent through me making me growl softly. My lips moved down his neck and I began to nip at the spot I’d been sucking at before.

His back arched as he pressed up against me, and I shifted my hips lower, the creature guiding my body’s actions now. The doubts returned for a moment as I felt his entrance give against the head of my cock, but then he moaned, and all further thought fled. I sucked again at his neck, and pushed inside him.

The feeling of him, tighter around me than anything I could remember before was too much—too overwhelming. I was going to come before I’d even managed to press into him all the way. He’d clenched around me at the first press, but the mewling sounds he was making sounded far more like pleasure than pain, so I kept going, slowly, inexorably, losing myself in him, and feeling the creature rise more with each push.

When I’d pressed into him fully, I held him close, panting, feeling as he clenched and unclenched around me, the feeling making it difficult not to pull back so I could thrust into him again. He was incoherent, and shifting under me, which I took as a sign of needing more, so I pulled back and thrust into him again, the world going scarlet around me with the rush of pleasure.

His cries pushed me to thrust again, and then again, both of us soon lost in a sea of hazed pleasure the likes of which I’d never felt before. His hands clutched at my shoulders as I fucked him hard and fast, one soon slipping between us to stroke the heated length trapped between us.

“Close?” I purred at him. He nodded, groaning, and I could feel him tighten around me. My fingers joined his on his cock, and I let another tendril of my magic flow through them. He cried out sharply, then bucked up against me, coming with a scream.

Somehow I managed to hold my own climax back as I watched him, then pulled him into a hungry kiss as I thrust into him harder than before, my whole body exploding with pleasure as finally I came deep inside him.

We lay still together for a bit, then I pulled away and rolled off him and onto my back, still panting. “God…”

“Mmm…” Harry’s eyes were closed, and he still looked lost in what we’d been doing.

“You…okay?”

“Fantastic,” he said, the word slightly slurred. He turned onto his side, looking at me. “You?”

I glanced at him, then away. “Good.”

His pleased expression faded a little at that. “You’re not still upset about all this, are you?” he asked.

“No.” It had felt too good for me to truly deny it. “But…we can’t know for sure it made any difference, can we? I mean…what if I still…? How do we know for sure I’m not a danger any more?”

He was silent for a few minutes. “I…suppose we don’t. Kingsley wants me to sort of be like a…parole officer for you. I thought…I could come visit every day for a while, until we learn what to look for. Whatever happens, Draco? I’ll be there. I promise.”

It might not be perfect, but for now, it was enough. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Draco.” he said with a soft smile, then brushed a lock of hair from my eyes. I shivered at the familiarity of the gesture, but didn’t push him away. Perhaps this time, we could finally become friends?

^v^

 _Five years later_

The platform was crowded, even though we’d arrived early.

“Scorpius, don’t run off just yet,” Astoria was telling him, holding onto his arm.

“Mother, please. I’m eleven. I can handle myself.”

Astoria sighed. I knew she wasn’t looking forward to this, but I knew Scorpius was more than ready. “Astoria, he’ll be fine.”

He smiled up at me. “Thank you, father.”

“I know you’ll make me proud, Scorpius.” I straightened his collar a bit, smiling back.

He glanced around, obviously eager to see if Pansy’s son had arrived. They were best friends, and it made me calmer knowing that he would have one friend already.

“Father…isn’t that Mister Potter?”

I followed my son’s gaze, and was met by sharp green eyes. The creature purred inside me at the sight of him. He nodded at me, and I returned the gesture, the creature shifting under my skin as I did so.

Breaking our gaze, I turned back to Scorpius. “Now, I want you to behave, Scorpius. I don’t want any letters from the Headmistress, are we clear? She might seem a bit odd at times, but I assure you, she’s as sharp as she ever was.”

Scorpius nodded. “Yes, father. May I get on the train and look for Malcom now?”

“Give your mother a kiss, and then you may.”

Scorpius stretched up to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek, then hurried off to the train before she could pull him into a hug.

I found an excuse to stay on the platform until most of the others had left, and soon it was only myself and Potter left. I moved to his side, and we watched the tracks for a few moments silently, as though we expected the train to return. “So…are we still on for this weekend?” he finally asked.

I glanced at him slantwise and smirked. “Eager?”

He couldn’t hold back a smile at that. “Yes.”

The creature inside me purred.


End file.
